this is not poetic

You wrote me like a poem

convinced that together

we could create something poetic

You wrote me like a poem

too structured, too perfect

time frames & rhyme schemes

but you should know

I have a fear of commitment

You wrote me like a poem

placing too much weight on adjectives

you hadn't yet earned the right to use

You wrote me like a poem

your style noticeably lacking

overwhelming me with word choice

making me feel tone-deaf

You wrote me like a poem

harsh diction & excessive syllables

too much too soon

backed up against the door with my fingers clasping the handle

and escape routes in the back of my mind

You wrote me like poem

but this line breakage between us

is years in the making

and the distance is too much

You wrote me like a poem

as if I was the most important thing

to have ever escaped your lips

And I did.

stomach cartwheels and a fear of heights

we climbed the ladder and my teeth chattered. 

my spine chattered. 

my knees chattered.

my mind chattered.

i was nervous--afraid of heights

taking it slow, but taking it in

we sat atop the city that night

and saw a shooting star...the closest one i've ever seen

we laughed and spoke of things that matter

alone and closer than we've ever been

it's the way he talks about his future

the picture he finger-paints with careful hands

his idea of love in every detail,

using any and all shades of red

it's the way my stomach does cartwheels

and i take cover when the sparks start to fly

because i've learned to be afraid of real things

and something this real can't be denied

it's the way his eyes matched the jacket that wasn't blue or green

the way they are a color somewhere beautifully in between

i see it when i close my eyes, the way he looks at me gently

not searching for or expecting anything--just seeing.

but even more than this it's just the way i feel around him...

happy. loved. alive.

accidental

he's the kind that takes time
he wraps himself in the blankets of your mind
and stays there until it feels just right

he talks a lot
but he does it with a fish-hook smile
luring you in, causing you
to hang on his every word
catch & release
catch & release

he laughs and says he was an "accident"
but with every glance into those bright blue eyes
I try to let him know

"if you're an accident, then you're the very best kind"

happy birthday.